Reason for Breathing
by mz kane
Summary: Draco: 'And then I realized that I couldn't die right here and now. Just one look at her and I breathe again...' A short fic while waiting for I.T.E.L. in Draco's POV.


Author's Note: A little something while waiting for the next chapters of "Impossible to Ever Love". Chapter 20 of "Impossible..." is still in the works. I just started college a couple of weeks ago, so I am pretty busy and I haven't had time to come up with the inspiration and write it. I'm still looking for the inspiration, mind you. This short fic was simply born out of the frustration of having no other things to write for "Impossible..." After all, I want Chapter 20 to be one of the very best chapters I produce and not just a series of distasteful scenes. It will be rated 'R', but I don't want it to enter the realm of 'NC-17'. Also, book 5 is coming out, so I'll probably have to make my story take a backseat to HP5. I hope you understand. Anyways, this short story was inspired by Babyface's song. One shot! I hope you all enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: Song by Babyface, simply used for inspiration and creativity. Characters and anything recognizable in the HP books by JK Rowling, used for the same reasons every HP fan fiction writer has out there. The plot is mine.  
  
Reason for Breathing  
  
I slammed the Great Hall doors behind me in my wake. A few moments of taking deep breaths to calm my fury were futile, as usual. Gritting my teeth in frustration, I walked angrily towards the Slytherin dungeons, rudely bumping into someone I didn't have the patience to identify.  
  
I kept walking, kept my head down. It's unusual for me to look down, but I didn't want to see anybody at that moment. I kept walking... I didn't mind that the stone floor of Hogwarts didn't look like the path leading to my dormitories. But then, who was I to care?  
  
And what had gotten me into such an angry state?  
  
Bullshit Potter, that's what.  
  
I've had as much as I can take with that fucking Gryffindor saint. I've endured the humiliation and the pride-bashing when he beats me in Quidditch. I've stood back and let the damn professors have their walls of superiority crash down when they look into his eyes, into his face. I've let everyone love him and hate me for the past years. I've let him glorify over his victories... over me.  
  
Me... the underdog. Draco Malfoy.  
  
I've put up with all that crap, I can assure you. I insult him and his two friends whenever possible and I make it a point to do so every time our paths cross. I take every opportunity to make him look bad and make me look like the hero, especially with Snape. I've put up with his crap as well over the years. I survived the harsh treatments my father did on me when I wasn't up to his standards of being a Malfoy and not being strong enough to overcome Potter and his damn friends. I survived the mud-chucking during our third year, the Triwizard shit during fourth and so on. I watched as he got the glory and I got shit.  
  
When I looked up, I saw that I was outside, facing the Quidditch pitch. Funny where your feet would take you if you just let them run off by themselves. But I wasn't in the mood for laughing.  
  
I was in the mood for bashing someone's brains in. Preferably the brains of Ron Weasley, one of Potter's best friends.  
  
Fuck! I wanted to scream, but couldn't. I didn't want to attract too much attention. Then again, how much attention would I attract when they're all busy fawning over damn Potter for winning the first game of the season and managing to get about a hundred points for Gryffindor when he caught a frightened girl during the game when she fell off the stands.  
  
But back to me, the underdog.  
  
I walk towards the Quidditch Pitch, wishing that I wasn't in my school uniform so I could grab my broom and fly for about an hour or so until my bones would freeze in the harsh wind. But hey, I'm Draco Malfoy, I shouldn't mind the cold. Right?  
  
I sat down abruptly and ran my hands through my hair. I didn't bother with gel after the game.  
  
"Why does Potter always have to be so fucking lucky?" I whispered as I rested my elbows on my bent knees. "He gets the snitch, he gets the cup, he gets the fame, he gets the rewards..." And what am I left with?  
  
Bloody nothing except for my name and the reputation that goes along with it.  
  
I'll admit, I'm perfectly content to stand in the shadows and watch as the Golden Boy walk past in the limelight. That is, if I only had someone to share the shadows with.  
  
I'm not a romantic, mind you. I have not and hopefully I will never profess my undying love to any foolish girl. At least, not to her face.  
  
That's the main reason why I hate Potter so much: he gets the girl.  
  
The girl. I'm not in love with her, if that's what you're thinking. But I haven't really known love so what do I know, right? I'm not even sure if she and Saint Potter are meant to be together for all time. I don't even know if they are together in the first place. All I know is that he gets to have her by his side, listening to almost his every word, laughing at his jokes and helping him out when he needs it. If he doesn't realize that she's something other than a friend or best friend, then he needs to have those glasses fixed... and his head rearranged. But then again, that would turn out for the worse for me.  
  
What else could you expect to happen to the underdog?  
  
But back to her...  
  
I don't know why I suddenly noticed her more than I usually do. It was just so sudden. I don't remember the exact time it happened. It just did.  
  
The Yule Ball gave me a glimpse of her, the real her. I can't describe the feeling that passed over me when I saw her in that gown, clutching the arm of Krum. All I know is that she took my breath away. She still takes my breath away.  
  
I never had the urge to kiss her or envelop her into a crushing embrace. I'm never the one to wear his emotions on his sleeve. I just want to be close to her. Physically close to her and find out what it's like. I want to look into her eyes, her face, and not find any trace of hatred or loathing for me. I just want to bask in her radiance and step into the light, her light. Maybe the light would be glaring at first, but I just want to try and risk it. Even just once.  
  
What I wouldn't give up just to see her smile... at me. What I wouldn't do to touch her and not have her wrench away from my grasp. What words couldn't I say to take back all the stupid things I said to her before.  
  
I would give up everything. Every single thing... I would give them up just to have her forgive me. Just to have her hold me or touch me.  
  
I looked into the night sky. The stars were out, twinkling at me. The chill was getting to me but I didn't care. If the whole of Hogwarts were to find me dead in the morning from being out here all night, then so be it. What would they do anyway? How would they react? Fuck it, I don't want to live.  
  
It was what? A few months before Graduation... I can't change anything now. I never could and I never can, so why try to fight it?  
  
"I should've known you were here." A soft, feminine voice came from a few feet behind me. I didn't need to look at who it was. I knew. I've attuned to her voice and her voice alone. But I looked just to make sure.  
  
She was standing, just as I had guessed, a few feet behind me. She had her cloak wrapped tightly around her and I could feel her shiver even from where I was sitting. Her face was illuminated by the stars and the half-moon that hung above us. Her hair was being blown by the breeze.  
  
And then I realized that I couldn't die right here and now. Just one glance at her and I breathe again. Damn it! Just when my plan was going perfect.  
  
"What are you doing here?" I ask, watching her as she smiled and went towards me. She smiled... at me... like it was the most natural thing in the world. She squatted and patted the ground tentatively before sitting down next to me. There go my plans, once again.  
  
"I wanted to look at the stars..." She said simply, taking her gaze away from me and looking up. I try and follow her gaze but I realize that I can't. My eyes were locked on to her. If she noticed me stare, she didn't say. She just kept on staring at the stars for a few moments before she spoke up. "Sometimes, looking at the stars clear my head."  
  
"Clear it from what?" I couldn't help but ask.  
  
"Oh, things... school... people." She answered vaguely. I was silent for a moment. Then she looked back at me. "What are you doing here? And without a cloak or robe, even." She said lightly, cocking her head to the side.  
  
It took a while for me to answer. "Probably the same as you, clearing my head."  
  
"Aren't you cold?" She asked. "I've got a sweater under this cloak but I'm still freezing... aren't you freezing?"  
  
I shook my head.  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "So do you intend to freeze to death out in here?" She meant it as a joke, but I knew better. I knew what I had intended to do in the first place.  
  
"Probably." I answered noncommittally.  
  
She blinked, then looked down. That's when she saw my hands, resting on my knees. She saw my fingernails were turning blue, probably, because she reached out and took one of my hands in hers. I almost jumped at the touch of her soft, warm hands coming in contact with mine.  
  
"Your hands are like ice...!" She exclaimed softly. She rubbed her hands with mine, trying to get them warm. "Why didn't you use a warming charm before coming out?" She chided lightly.  
  
"Why don't you?"  
  
She looked up at me, but her motions didn't waver. My hand was starting to tingle.  
  
"I left my wand in my room." She answered.  
  
"I broke mine when I flung it towards a wall." I said.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I was angry." I prayed that she wouldn't ask anymore questions. But then she did.  
  
"Why were you angry?" She was sincerely interested, even I could notice that.  
  
I shook my head, not wanting to answer. She didn't have to know... hell, she's the last person I would want to confess my reasons for anger.  
  
There was silence. She kept on rubbing my hand until I got feeling back into it. Actually, my whole body was on fire from her touch.  
  
"All done..." She announced happily, putting my hand back on my knee and reaching for the other one. She did the same to my other hand then.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" I had to ask.  
  
She stilled for a moment, before resuming her motions. "Because you need it."  
  
"Need what?" I scoffed. "A touch from a warm-hearted Gryffindor?" I asked sarcastically.  
  
"Maybe..." She answered, giving a small smile. "Or maybe just a touch, period."  
  
"A burning touch from you." I said softly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're burning me with your touches, you know."  
  
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
She seemed to be satisfied with my answer so I let it be. When she was through, she pressed one of her palms to mine and marveled at how our hands looked. No holding, no intertwined fingers... we were merely touching. My heart began to beat faster in spite of myself.  
  
"Why have you been staring at me?" She suddenly asked, looking at me as our hands lowered.  
  
I was deeply shocked that I didn't what to say or what to do next. I don't even know how I looked to her...  
  
She continued, "I haven't actually caught you..." She confessed. "But a friend of mine has." She smiled. "She told me just a few minutes ago... just after you went out of the Great Hall... Why were you so angry in the first place?"  
  
I took a deep breath. So she had seen me...  
  
"I'm a Malfoy." I answered. I felt her questioning gaze upon me so I explained further. "I'm used to always getting what I want. But there is this one thing I know I can never have."  
  
"Which is?" She asked. I looked into her face and I wanted to bolt right then and there. I couldn't... but then I gathered what was left of my courage and told her.  
  
"You." I said simply.  
  
She blinked. Once, twice... Then she looked away and back to the sky.  
  
"Hermione...?" I breathed. My heart was pounding and I almost couldn't get her name out. I said her name over and over before, but never to her face and never out loud.  
  
"I've always wondered what it would feel like when someone says that he wants you..." She mused aloud. "I've read it so many times in countless novels, but until now, until you, no one has ever told me that."  
  
"So what does it feel like?"  
  
"I don't know..." She replied. "All I feel is you."  
  
If I didn't want to kiss her before, I sure as hell wanted to now. But I held back.  
  
"I'm almost too afraid to blink... to afraid to let go." She continued, looking down at our hands that were still touching. "I keep thinking that I shouldn't be here or that this is some dream."  
  
"It's not." I answered, hoping that it were true.  
  
"Then thank God." She answered.  
  
But I had to know one other thing more before I fully grab hold of my wits. "What about Potter?"  
  
She looked surprised. "What about Harry?"  
  
I didn't answer. Partly because I felt stupid to ask her that question, mostly because I didn't have anything to say.  
  
"Would I be here if I were in love with Harry?" She asked. "Would I be here if I even felt the least for Harry what I feel for you?"  
  
"You have feelings for me?"  
  
"Countless." She replied, smiling.  
  
"Name a few."  
  
"Hmm..." She thought for a moment. "Understanding, concern, admiration... How about you?"  
  
"What about me?"  
  
"Do you have any feelings for me?"  
  
"Only one."  
  
"And that is?"  
  
"I crave for you."  
  
Her eyes widened then she smiled. "What about me?"  
  
"Everything about you."  
  
"Name a few." She said, her smile widening. I could feel myself smiling as well.  
  
"Your touch..." I said, moving my hand up and down her arm. "Your smile..." She smiled. "Your laugh... Do I need to go on?"  
  
"That would be nice." She said quite invitingly.  
  
"Your scent..." I said, leaning in and taking in a deep breath. She smelled of cinnamon and I grew heady. I pulled back a little, coming just a couple of inches away from her face. "Your kiss." And with that, I closed the gap and kissed her. Gently and softly... the only way I knew how to kiss when the kiss was shared with her.  
  
When we both broke away, she was in a deep pink flush I found beautiful on her.  
  
"You are a Malfoy..." She said in a soft voice. "You always get what you want."  
  
"Not yet..." I replied. "I want all of you, I crave for all of you... I want you in my life, Hermione."  
  
And it was just that. Simple, brief... yet it conveyed all the things I wanted to say without having to say them totally. It may be cheesy and it could've been used by hundreds of hopeless romantics everywhere, but I couldn't live without her. And now, it all depended on what she had to say about it.  
  
"Who am I to refuse?" She said unhesitatingly. Then we kissed again.  
  
Fog was building up, making the air even colder than it already was. But we were warm in our embrace. After a few minutes of kissing, she leant into me and rested her head on my chest. My arms were around her petite form and I was giving her head a light kiss every now and then.  
  
Living... Breathing... Being with her...  
  
It meant the world.  
  
END 


End file.
